


But, why not?

by gunslingaaahhh



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunslingaaahhh/pseuds/gunslingaaahhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>uh... there's just some stuff you SHOULDN'T DO with broken bones, s'all I'm sayin'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But, why not?

Danny heaved a sigh for what felt like the umpteenth time that evening, crinkling the pages of the newspaper between his fingers in irritation. He lifted the paper just enough to see underneath it and caught sight of Steve nuzzling at the fabric just above Danny's belt-buckle. The fingers of his good hand are just barely dipped into the little gap between skin and belt, pushing ever so slightly.

"What part of 'no strenuous activity' did you not get?" Danny asks tiredly, folding the paper and tossing it onto the floor.

Steve jerks up, unaware that he was being watched and blushing a little. His pupils are slightly dilated, and there is a sluggishness to his movements; the poor slob is doped out of his mind on painkillers, by all rights should be _passed the fuck out_ , and yet, here they were. Danny had taken Steve home, forcibly made him ingest his medication and demanded that he go right up to bed. The other man had balked, yelling that he wasn't a little kid, he didn't need to take a fucking _nap_ like some sort of invalid. There had been eye-rolling on Danny's part, but he'd just shrugged and collapsed on the couch, legs crossed at the ankle and paper in hand.

At some point -- after wandering around in the kitchen for twenty minutes -- Steve had forced Danny's legs apart and had settled between them, head resting on the smaller man's stomach. Danny had held his breath, frozen in place, watching. Steve had wriggled around, trying to adjust and get comfortable with just one arm before falling into a semi-sleep-like state. They'd been laying like that for over an hour with no problems and barely any movement, aside from Danny occasionally shifting so his legs wouldn't fall asleep. After a point, though, he could feel Steve... _doing_ things. First it was just fingers lightly trailing over the creases of Danny's slacks, then it was light kisses through fabric, and now it was nuzzling.

"I asked you a question."

"... strenuous is jumping out of a plane. Or, um, tackling a suspect. This is not strenuous." Steve's words are fuzzy, partially from dozing and partially from the medication.

"Strenuous _also_ applies to any sort of activity in which you'd need to serious use that arm, Steven. That includes... you know. And, do _not_ think I don't know what you're doing down there, either; I'm a detective, remember?"

"I'm cuddling you."

"No, no-no, you are _goading_ me, my friend, you are trying to _goad_ me into participating in lewd behavior. Lewd behavior counts as strenuous, dummy. Now, give it a rest, you're in no condition to fuck around and I'm going to be honest, I'm really not in the mood."

'Disappointed' would be an understatement; Steve looks positively _crushed_ , and Danny screws his eyes shut, fighting the urge to wrap himself around Steve and squeeze the shit out of him, and smack him. He feels the other man move a little before burying his face in his stomach, cast resting against Danny's ribs, the good hand curled around his belt. He reminds himself that there are painkillers at work here, and Steve's already-addled brain is further compromised.

"Listen, I know you're feeling kinda... weird... right now, but I'm telling you, it just isn't a good idea. I mean, have you _met_ us? We're so accident prone... lord knows you'd just end up hurting your arm more, is all I'm saying."

"Danny, c'mon, _please?_ " and there is a deeply pleading note to his voice, Danny practically dies right there when Steve lifts his head and he can see the look on the other man's face.

Steve is squirming, Danny realizes, and he's got _that look_ on his face, and how did he not notice that before? The painkillers are supposed to keep him loose and relaxed, but apparently they are also working another kind of magic. Steve readjusts, scooting up a little higher and Danny feels the hard length of him, firm and insistent.

"Steve..."

"You don't understand, I need to _so bad_ , it's like I'm drowning. Just... you don't even have to move, just pull your pants down," and fingers begin to quest for belt-buckles and zippers and buttons. Danny swats at the hands, mindful of the cast, and gently pushes Steve back and away, so he's kneeling on the couch instead of laying on it. Really, Steve looks practically _starved_ for it, and part of Danny feels oddly triumphant in that knowledge; if there was a bigger ego boost than this man being hungry for his cock, he'd like to know what it was.

" _You_ don't understand, macho-man: you need to rest, you need to _sleep_ , and gobbling my dick is doing neither of those things."

There is a pout firmly placed on Steve's face, and Danny closes his eyes again, thinking. He knows full well that when Steve gets like this, he doesn't take 'no' for an answer. He also knows that considering the current state of mind, he's going to be even more insistent.

"There will be no sucking of my cock this evening," Danny begins, climbing off the couch and taking Steve with him, brushing him off, and laying him back down again.

"But... why not?"

"Because," and Danny has reversed their positions, he is half kneeling, half laying between Steve's legs, "I am going to suck yours instead."

There is no reply to this, Steve's brain appears to have broken, and Danny goes about his business, undoing buttons and pulling down zippers. He tugs the cargos down and off Steve's hips, but not too far; he wants to limit all movement that isn't strictly his. He casts a glance at Steve's junk and feels a pang of sympathy; the poor man is achingly hard, the head a dark, angry purple. Danny takes the flesh in hand and gives it a firm squeeze, prompting Steve to hitch in a breath.

This has to be done right, _delicately_ , or else Steve will just continue to beg him. Danny gets comfortable, partially on the floor now as a means to get a good angle, and begins to nip and nibble at the heated flesh of Steve's cock. His tongue darts out to taste at hipbones and taught thighs, skin fever-hot. He can feel Steve quivering, straining against the fabric of his pants; they are literally just down past his ass, not nearly low enough for him to spread his legs and truly revel in what Danny is doing to him.

He abandons the cock for a moment, focusing on the soft skin of Steve's lower abdomen, teeth nipping gently. His hands are rubbing slow circles into Steve's hips, both soothing and arousing all at once. The hands skim upwards, pushing Steve's thin t-shirt up towards his chest before trailing back down to tickle at the definition of muscles. Nipples are pinched suddenly, and Steve arches up, straining to get closer. Danny moves with him, back just far enough that there is no contact beyond what he's doing with his hands, and Steve groans with frustration. Thumbs swipe over nipples, continuously, and Steve is squirming again. Danny chuckles before going back to business and tracing the head of Steve's cock with his tongue, achingly slow.

By this point he knows every inch, every little sweet spot on Steve's body, and he can play the man like a harp. Taking just the head into his mouth and sucking, Steve's body arches off the couch cushions. A tongue-tip worries at the slit, teasing out little bubbles of pre-cum. The stimulation there is almost too much, hyper-sensitive as he is, and Steve utters a strangled scream as both of his hands come to tangle in Danny's hair. The tongue doesn't stop, though, just continues his torture and oh dear _lord,_ Steve feels like he's dying. Just when he thinks he can't handle anymore, the tongue retreats and the whole cock is taken down. There is a yelp from above when Steve feels the head of his cock bump the soft back of Danny's throat.

Danny sucks cock like he was born for it, and Steve is pretty close to done-for already; Danny is barely getting started, though. True, it is a bit cruel of him to torture Steve like this, but part of him feels like he's earned the right to such a privilege. He alternates pressure, knowing that drives Steve nuts, before releasing the cock from his mouth an inch at a time, sucking hard. The head comes free with a 'pop' and Danny grins, pleased with himself. He flicks a glance up to Steve and almost cums himself, right there. The man is a study of ecstasy, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between teeth. There is sweat collecting on his brow, running down the sides of his face and collecting in the hollows of his throat; Danny resists the urge to scoot up and lick it away.

Instead, he spits into his hand a few times and grips Steve's dick, pumping gently and playing with the rhythm a little. He changes it up just enough so that Steve doesn't get complacent, and every little change causes the other man to gasp and cry out, voice cracked. He can feel the other man is close, and hell, he's pretty close himself, but it's not time yet. Danny's tongue pokes out to lap wetly at the head before blowing a cool stream of air across the tip.

Steve's eyes fly open and he comes completely off the couch for a moment, fingers knotting in Danny's hair and pulling almost viciously.

"D-danno--"

Danny tongues the slit again, eyes glued to Steve's face, loving that he can watch the other man slowly fall apart. He pumps father now, twisting his wrist here and there and squeezing, he tongue tracing lazy circles up and down the shaft in between pumps.

He feels it then, the tell-tale sign that Steve is dangling precariously over the edge. It's like this little twitch, his whole body does it, and Danny grins before fisting Steve's cock at the base. He focuses his tongue just on the slit again, loving the taste of the pre-cum oozing out of it. Steve is babbling incoherently, speech peppered here and there with "Danno" and "ohmygod" and "fuckfuckfuck." His muscles are contracting, Danny can see and feel it, and pushes the tip of his tongue in _just_ a little, and that small motion is what finally causes Steve to spill over the edge.

His whole body goes rigid, muscles entirely focused on wringing him out completely. The orgasm doesn't explode from him; rather, it gushes and Danny is there, mouth wrapped around the head to literally suck the spunk out of him. He does this for a while, even after he feels Steve go soft, before letting the spent cock drop from his lips. He stands, grimacing at the creak in his bad knee, before sitting on the coffee table closer to where Steve lays panting.

"Do we feel better now? Can you sleep for me, please?"

"I-- you-- _oh my god_."

"Yeah, I tend to have that affect on people; it's my rapier wit and dashing good looks, right?" Danny chuckles and helps Steve off the couch, tugging his pants back up to he's once again in a state of decency, and slings the good arm across his shoulders. He leads Steve to the stairs and up to bed, Steve mumbling the whole while about returning the favor. He's still babbling to himself when Danny has them both undressed and under covers, but stops as soon as Danny rolls them so that he's spooned up against Steve's back.

"You, shut up and go to sleep or I'll have to employ other tactics."

"... can I take a raincheck?"

"As soon as the cast comes off, babe, I promise."

 

  



End file.
